Once and Future King
by imloopy
Summary: Like others, I enjoyed most of the final episode ever of Merlin, but felt it could be improved upon. So this is the real story of what happened after the battle of Camlann. Has Arthur's destiny - and Merlin's - been fulfilled? Merlin feels there is still more to do. Spoilers for 5:13, starts very close to episode, but now developing into its own original story.
1. Chapter 1 Revelations -Arthur

_**It's been a while! I just couldn't live with the BBC version of how the story ended, sorry BBC. It's always a bittersweet moment when a TV series ends completely, because there's no more canon, but there's also the freedom to develop the storylines and characters without fear of contradiction from official sources.**_

_**Parts of 5:13 were wonderful, all I could have asked for. The end... not so much. And there were a few gaps on the way that I wondered about, as well. So here's my take on the story.**_

_**I don't own the characters, of course - some surely belong only to the legend itself, while others belong to the BBC. I'm writing this purely for my own entertainment, plus the enjoyment of anyone who chooses to accompany me on the journey.**_

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**Chapter 1: Revelations - Arthur**

The first thing I became aware of was the agonising pain in my left side, just below the bottom rib. For the first few moments after I awoke I could think of nothing else, but I eventually caught my breath and forced my mind past the pain to find out what lay beyond.

I was lying semi-reclined on what felt like grass, in full armour. So not rescued and safe in a medical tent then. Still on the battlefield? And yet battlefields never bear grass for very long, and I could not hear the moans of the dying that would usually haunt such a venue. All I could hear was the birdsong that usually heralded the dawn, wind gently rustling leaves above my head and the crackling of fire.

Fire!

My eyes shot open, and I looked around wildly, seeking the source of this new danger. Fire on the battlefield was a common ploy, and my memory obligingly threw up images of a fire breathing dragon, of all things, raining fire down on my men as they fought. We were lost, surely, but then that strange figure calling down white lightning, screaming at the dragon, which seemed to hear and respond.

My mind was still trying to come up with an identity for that mysterious yet welcome figure who had rescued us, as I found the source of the crackling and the warmth that I could feel. A campfire burned near my feet, with Merlin carefully feeding it more wood.

In one sense this felt completely normal, recalling fond memories of time spent travelling with my men, while part of me reacted with an overwhelming feeling of betrayal. As I struggled to remember why, the rest of the previous events came flooding back. The battle at Camlann. Merlin's lame excuse for leaving me to face the enemy without the man I had come to think of as brave and loyal. The man whose presence I had come to expect up until then just as I expected to see my own shadow.

"Merlin!"

Merlin dropped the wood, sending up a shower of sparks, and hurried to my side, just as though things were normal, as if there had been no battle while he was off - gathering important herbs? Was that the excuse he had used? So how did he come to be here by my side, with no-one else in sight?

"How are you feeling?"

Still the same Merlin apparently, anxious for my well-being.

"Lie back."

I had been trying to pull myself up to a sitting position, but Merlin gently pushed me back down onto the grass and rearranged the rolled up blanket that lay under my head.

The brief glimpse I'd had of our surroundings showed we were in the remains of a burnt out building, in a clearing surrounded by trees. I tried to think of the area around Camlann, to work out where we might be and how we had got there.

"Where have you been?"

"It doesn't matter now." Merlin knelt beside me, easing me down. As he did so, his fingers brushed my wound and I winced.

"My side!"

"You're not bleeding."

I chose to ignore the concern in his voice, and tried not to think about the burning sensation of Mordred's sword, or the strange weakness it left behind. "That's alright, I thought I was dying," I snapped back. Then I gave in to Merlin's gentle hands and relaxed back down with a groan that escaped despite my best efforts.

"I'm sorry."

I thought at first Merlin was apologising for hurting me, but his next words made no sense.

"I thought I'd defied the prophecy. I thought I was in time."

I stared at him, confused. What prophecy? Prophecy was outlawed! What could Merlin possibly know of any prophecy? "What are you talking about?"

His next words made even less sense, if that was possible. "I defeated the Saxons. The dragon. And yet I knew it was Mordred I must stop."

I could only come up with one explanation: greater men than he had been known to crack under the strain of war, after all. I patted his shoulder comfortingly. "The person who defeated them was the sorcerer," I pointed out, thinking again of that strangely familiar figure with white hair and a red cloak.

The dreams - or hallucinations - that had Merlin in their grasp must have been overpowering, because he seemed to well up with tears, as he insisted, "It was me."

My mind raced, seeking to understand. "This is stupid! What - why would you say that?"

"I'm..." His tears were starting to fall freely now, and he struggled to control his voice. "I'm a sorcerer. " He cleared his throat. "I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you."

I felt my heart jump as I heard his words, then looked at his familiar face, the tousled dark hair, the clear blue eyes, the smudge of soot on his cheek from the fire, and decided it must be some sort of misguided attempt to cheer me up. Either that or the man I had come to love and trust had gone crazy. "Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know."

Merlin seemed to draw comfort from my reassurance, or so I thought, but then he turned from me towards the fire. "Look!" One hand still remaining firmly on my shoulder, he held the other towards the flames, muttered some strange words that I recognised as some sort of magic incantation, and the fire shifted, sending up a shower of sparks. As I watched, those sparks rearranged themselves, remarkably, impossibly, into the shape of a dragon, flapping its wings briefly before fading into the darkening sky.

Shaken, I looked at Merlin, to find him staring intensely at me with a look I did not understand - defiance? Pride? not fear, surely? With his words ringing in my ears, he suddenly looked completely different, no longer the servant and friend I had known and trusted for years, but what? Who?

This was too much to cope with right now. Suddenly feeling for the first time in my life overwhelmed, exhausted and terrified, I summoned up what little strength I had left and turned my face away to hide my alarm. "Leave me."

"Arthur..."

That hurt in his voice pulled at me... But it must be my imagination. If what he said - what he had shown me - was true, that meant that everything up until now, his life, my life, everything I had been fighting for with him at my side... None of this made any sense. The pain in my side was overwhelmed by a sudden surge in my head and heart. "Just... You heard. Just..."

I turned my face away from the man who was now a stranger to me, and closed my eyes, feigning a sleep that all too quickly became real.

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_**Very close to the TV episode so far, setting the scene and easing me back into writing. Next chapter up soon, I hope. Comments/reviews always welcome!**_


	2. Chapter 2 Truth - Merlin

_**A/N: Thanks for the comments so far. This part was hard to write, because it wasn't my story, nor the story of the episode, but something to bridge the gap. And that's when I found the timeline in the episode was hard to explain...**_

_**Ah well, the more the story becomes mine the easier it will be, I guess!**_

_**Another problem in this part was the flow of time in the story. I hope you can follow it ok: part of it is flashback.**_

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Chapter 2: truths – Merlin

My hands were shaking as I placed another piece of wood on the campfire. Arthur's reaction had been all that I had hoped – and all that I had feared. Many times over the past few years I had rehearsed in my mind the scene where I would finally be able to share the truth with my friend, and I had gone through every reaction that I could expect to find from him. Terror, delight and all the shades in between. I thought I had imagined everything, and yet the overwhelming feeling I had got from him as he realised the truth was disgust.

It didn't matter: whatever he thought of me, I had protected him time and again without his knowledge, and I would continue to do the same until the day I died – or until the day he died, which I acknowledged with a shudder could be far closer than I cared to admit.

I thought back to the events of the past few hours…

As I travelled to the battle, I moved faster than I had thought possible. My powers had not only been restored to me in the crystal cave, but it was as though they had been magnified, or maybe purified. Magic had always been a part of me, but now I felt it coursing through me, strengthening me beyond imagining.

To stand over the battle and bring an end to the fighting felt so right, as though the events of my life had led up to that point, but then I began to feel that dread feeling that things were not as they should be. Walking amongst the dead and wounded without really seeing them, I found the only man I was looking for: Arthur Pendragon. The prophecy had said he would meet his destiny at Camlann, so I was surprised to find he still breathed. I picked him up and carried him, focused only on feeling that small spark within him, on getting him to where he could be healed. So much so that I almost walked right into Gaius, who was standing quietly in my path.

"Where are you going, Merlin?" he asked me, completely unfazed by my disguise. With my chin I indicated the tent just beyond, where the cries of the wounded could be heard. Few people moved around the area; most were either inside caring for the injured or out on the battlefield looking for those few who still remained alive.

"Is he still living?" Gaius asked, feeling Arthur's face. When I nodded, he went on: "You must not take him in there. While he still lives there is nothing they can do for him that you and I cannot; and you will find it difficult to act with such an audience."

I listened to his words in silence. I have always relied on Gaius, whose wisdom has been instrumental in guiding me through the past few years, and I understood deep down inside that he was right. Destiny had brought us to this point, and no mere bandage or potion was going to be enough to take us further.

"There is a burnt-out hut down a side path a couple of miles down the main track." Gaius took my arm and helped me with my burden for a moment. "Take him down there. I will find supplies and meet you there shortly." Gaius helped me haul Arthur onto the back of a horse, and I carefully held him in position as we moved onwards, moving slowly and cautiously so as not to attract attention. On the few occasions when it looked like someone noticed us and was moving towards us, a quick muttered spell was enough to move their direction elsewhere.

By the time we reached the place Gaius had mentioned, I was beginning to stagger with exhaustion. Arthur in full armour was heavy and difficult to manhandle, and although my magic was sustaining me, it had done so much in the last few hours that it appeared I was reaching my limit, at least for now. I lowered him down with a sigh of relief, tied the horse up and set about collecting wood for a fire. There still remained a couple of hours until dawn, and we would need the light as well as the heat of the fire. Besides, the familiar camping routine helped me forget, at least for a moment, the circumstances of this particular camp.

It was not more than half an hour before I heard horses' hooves on the path and jumped up ready to defend us both, but it was only Gaius, who was riding his white mare and leading another horse. Both animals, I was glad to see, appeared loaded with provisions.

I greeted Gaius eagerly, and he laughed. "It was easy," he assured me. "Everyone is so focused on the battlefield and on tending the wounded that I had no trouble locating what you needed."

I felt a momentary surge of guilt at taking Gaius away from the many who also needed him, but then I looked again at Arthur. His people needed Arthur even more than they needed Gaius. I indicated the king. "I am not sure what is wrong. There are no obvious wounds."

Gaius glanced at the sky. "It will be light soon. I need to cover the tracks of the horses, and I will seek out some herbs that may help. You both need rest, I'll be back soon."

As he disappeared, Arthur started stirring, and I jumped to his aid. I knew it was time that he knew what was going on, but it was difficult to find the words. He at first thought I was mad, or deluded, but after I demonstrated my power in the sparks of the fire – about all I could manage by that point, I was so exhausted – the look on his face was enough to convince me that he would never again look on me as a friend…

It had been a long day and night, and although light was beginning to dawn I gave in to temptation and allowed my eyes to close. Arthur was not well enough to travel, and like this I was in no state to help him. We would be safe enough for now, with the enchantments I had put on the path to ward all but Gaius away.

We had both slept for most of the day, it seemed. I woke as the sun hit my eyelids, slanting through the trees in the late afternoon, and I rebuilt the fire, which had settled low. I suspected Arthur was awake, but as I spoke to him he remained still with his eyes closed. I did not blame him, really. After all, he must feel great betrayal. I only hoped I would have the chance to explain properly and he would come to understand. I could not bear the thought that the last expression I should see on Arthur's face towards me was one of fear and loathing.

I heard footsteps approaching softly, and jumped up, but it was only Gaius moving towards us, herbs in his hand.

"Any change?" That was typical of Gaius, always concerned about his patient above all else. "Let me see." He moved forwards, lowering himself gingerly next to Arthur, and that was when I got a proper look at the herbs in his hand.

"Is that all you've got?" I demanded. He knew how urgent the matter was, and yet he came back with such a paltry offering. I could have got more myself in half an hour, in the area around Camelot where others also sought the herbs and plants widely used in medicinal matters.

"The hills are crawling with Saxons." Gaius dismissed my concerns and stretched out a hand towards Arthur.

I knew his words were true, and yet in my anxiety I could not let it rest, even though I understood deep down that no herb existed in the world to cure whatever ailed Arthur this time. "There's no yarrow? No ladies mountain?"

"I've got comfrey." Gaius remained his calm, patient self. At this point I so wanted him to be more like Arthur, to yell back at me and give me something to get angry at.

"You should have got sticklewort. There must have been sticklewort." As Gaius turned his eyes on me I felt suddenly ashamed. I had come to love the old man so much in the past few years, and yet constantly overlooked the strain that association with me had brought on him, how old he really was.

"Merlin, why don't you water the horses? And make sure they're fed. You can't hide here for much longer."

I nodded, suddenly grateful for an excuse to think about something else for a while, and moved away. As I led the horses to the nearby stream to drink, and then held them while they helped themselves to the juicy patch of grass that had been just out of their reach, I could hear Gaius and Arthur talking quietly. I tried to listen in, but one of the horses stepped sideways onto my foot and distracted me, and the only part of the conversation I heard was "greatest sorcerer" from Gaius and a louder "Merlin?" in Arthur's familiar disbelieving tones. I smiled wryly. Unfortunately it appeared that I had succeeded in convincing people I was an idiot far better than I could have hoped. It had been my disguise on many occasions, keeping me safe and undetected so I could continue to serve Arthur, but now it was proving part of the obstacle towards Arthur accepting me as I really am.

When Gaius eventually headed towards me, a few minutes later, his expression was grave and my heart sank.

"Gaius?"

He sighed heavily. "There is a fragment of sword embedded in his chest."

Surely this was good news. Knowing what was wrong was the first step towards cure. That's what Gaius had always taught me. "Then we will use magic to draw it out."

"No. The blade that struck Arthur is no ordinary blade. I fear it was forged in a dragon's breath. Its fatal power will not be easily denied."

A dragon's breath? But Kilgarrah would not betray Arthur like that, surely? Then the answer came to me, in an image of a white dragon circling the battlefield. "Aithusa."

Gaius nodded. "The blade's point is traveling inexorably towards his heart. Not even you could hope to thwart such magic. It would take a power as ancient as the dragons themselves."

I could not believe he could remain so calm. "No, there must be something that we can do, Gaius!"

"Only the Sidhe possess such magic. In the midst of the lake of Avalon there is an ancient isle. That is the source of their power. You must take him there."

I nodded. I had met the Sidhe before and experienced their power. I had come out top on those occasions. I wondered whether that would work in my favour or theirs this time round. Then I remembered Arthur's reaction towards me earlier. "He won't allow that."

"He will. I spoke to him."

I felt a sudden surge of joy. Maybe Arthur realised all that I needed to say to him. Maybe he had forgiven me and accepted me. Then again, maybe he was just resigned to the fact he was in my power for now, just as for years I had accepted his power over me.

I went over to where he lay on the ground, staring thoughtfully into the fire. "Arthur. We need to leave at first light."

He looked up at me for a moment, then turned his head away. "I'll decide."

At least he had not refused outright. I recognised the side of Arthur that still had to exert what power he could over a situation beyond his control, and grew more confident. "I can't let you die." I allowed all the emotion I felt to be expressed in those words. I needed to show Arthur that any betrayal he felt was not my intention, that I had acted always only in his best interests.

Arthur shook his head, unwilling or unable to soften himself any further towards me, at least for now. "It doesn't change anything."

Gaius spoke up now. "Let him sleep. It's late. You cannot travel tonight."

I nodded wearily and turned to start readying the camp so we could set off early.

Gaius laid a hand softly on my shoulder, maybe sensing my doubts. "You were right to tell him."

I looked at him, and then at Arthur. "I just hope he can forgive me for not telling him before," I answered despondently.

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_**So does this version of the untold part of the story make sense? Reviews welcome, as always. What worked for you? What didn't? What do you reckon will happen?**_


	3. Chapter 3 Helpless - Gaius

_**A/N: I listened to Arthur and Merlin bickering, trying to decide whose turn it was to tell the next chapter. And then a quiet voice spoke up: Excuse me, my lady, but may I be of assistance? I believe I could tell the next part of the story for you, if that would help.**_

_**And so be warned: the danger (and wonder) of fanfiction is when the characters start taking charge and dictating the story to you. So don't ask if Arthur survives, because I really don't know until they decide to tell me.**_

_**Again, original storyline from BBC, I don't own any of these and I'm doing this purely for the experience of writing. And to get those voices out of my head.**_

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I have seen many injuries in my time, and dealt with everyone from kings to the poorest villagers, but never have I felt quite as helpless as when dealing with Arthur Pendragon after the battle of Camlann. As I hurried through the woods searching for herbs that might possibly ease his suffering a little, my wandered to the two young men I loved like sons.

I had never had any family of my own. My life had been devoted to the royal family, and I had been present on the day Arthur was born. Indeed, I had been present on those occasions where Uther and Ygraine made their fateful bargain with Nimueh.

As for Merlin, he was already nearly a man by the time I met him, but my life since I had met him had been so eventful that it felt like I had always known him. I had seen him develop from a young impetuous boy into the great warlock that I admired.

As I reached their camp Merlin came hurrying towards me. I looked beyond him to where Arthur lay on a blanket. "Any change? Let me see."

I bent to check on Arthur, who still appeared sleeping or unconscious, but Merlin was more interested in the herbs I had brought, impatient and unsatisfied with my meagre offering. I bade him water the horses, knowing that what he needed more than anything was to be kept busy, and that all the herbs in the world would not make a jot of difference to the King's condition.

As Merlin moved out of earshot, Arthur's eyes opened and he grabbed my arm. "He's a sorcerer!" His eyes were wide with fear, as he glanced over in the other direction, where Merlin had just disappeared.

Unsure what to say, and unable to even feign surprise at his announcement, I merely looked at him steadily, and Arthur realised the significance. "You knew." He lay back weakly.

"Arthur, he is your friend," I pointed out, seeing the unease in his eyes.

"I want him gone." Arthur tried to sound firm, but his voice came out more petulant.

"There is no need to fear him," I reassured him.

"Have him take word to Camelot, to Guinevere."

So it was not that he feared him, more that he required more time to adjust to the idea. That I could understand. Arthur was going to learn a whole new side to his servant over the coming hours, and he would find it hard.

"You cannot send Merlin. I will go."

Arthur indicated the wound on his side. "I need a physician right now, not a sorcerer."

Oh how little he understood! "He can do far more than me. Far more than you can ever imagine." I thought about the way I had come to rely on Merlin's magic. "Arthur. He doesn't just have magic. There are those who say he's the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth."

"Merlin?" The disbelief in Arthur's voice made me smile. Oh how little he knew of his servant's real abilities.

"If you are to stand any survival, you'll need Merlin to help you, not me."

I settled Arthur more comfortably, checked over his wound again and then went to find Merlin, who was still with the horses. It would do Arthur good to have time to absorb what I had told him. I explained to Merlin what I had felt in Arthur's chest, a fragment of dragon-forged metal working its way towards his heart. Merlin's first reaction was to use magic. Oh if it were that easy! Magic was needed, indeed, but a spell that great would take far more power than any man could ever wield to remedy.

The only solution I could think of was the Sidhe. They are not a co-operative race; they keep themselves to themselves, but their power is exactly what we needed, and I had faith in Merlin's ability to get his own way when he needed to.

With some sort of plan in progress for the morning, it was time we rested. I saw Merlin looking soberly in Arthur's direction, and understood what troubled him. "You were right to tell him," I reassured him. Merlin would need all his powers in the days to come, and he could not afford to hold back, fearing that Arthur would see. I also had the strangest feeling that the Sidhe would not appreciate anyone seeking help who were not working in perfect harmony.

The next morning Arthur said nothing about magic, or Merlin, but allowed himself to be assisted onto his horse without a word. Merlin and I had already packed everything up ready for the journey. Once they had left, I would ride to Camelot. My part in their story was over, at least for the moment; mere medicine would no longer be of any assistance. Only Merlin could help Arthur now.

Arthur called me over to him, and pulled something from around his neck. As he handed it carefully to me, I saw it was the Royal Seal, the means by which the King could prove his claim to the throne. "Give this to Guinevere."

"This is the Royal Seal, Sire!"

"If I am to die, I can think of no-one I would rather succeed me."

I thought of Gwen, the lady's maid who was, the queen who is, and nodded. I held Arthur's hand for a moment, trying to convey to him my love and admiration, and to pass on to him some of my strength.

Then Merlin drew me aside. "You know I was betrayed. The girl Ayra cannot be trusted."

"I know." I had had my suspicions about the young girl already. What Merlin had told me had only confirmed what I had already guessed.

"How long does he have?"

I looked over at Arthur for a long moment, thinking. "At best, two days."

Merlin nodded, and prepared to leave.

"Merlin." He turned, and I held him tight. I could feel the pain he was holding in, could sense his heart breaking, but could think of no way to ease his agony.

"I'll have your favourite meal waiting for you. Now go. Look after him." Small consolation indeed, but with those few words I sought to convey to Merlin that not only would there be food, but also family and love and comfort. He would need all that, and much more, if what I feared would indeed come to pass.

Merlin clung on to me as though he was drowning and I was his only link to safety. I knew he feared for the future; so did I. "Go."

He took both his horse and Arthur's by the reins and moved off, careful that he did not move too quickly, startling the horses and causing Arthur more pain.

I mounted up myself and turned my mare towards Camelot.

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_**So did I channel Gaius ok? Reviews/comments always welcome! Thanks for your time and interest so far. **_


	4. Chapter 4 Elsewhere

_**A/N: Planning has taken place. I know now roughly where this is going. Now I just have to sit back and enjoy the ride. This chapter is in three parts, including the first completely original part of the story - and so the paths between the BBC story and my story start to diverge. **_

_**Thanks to the BBC for the original stories, and the actors for bringing the characters to life. The only thing I gain from this is the writing experience and the buzz from your kind comments.**_

_**Special thanks to MadaMag, whose comments gave me great food for thought and so influenced the development of the story.**_

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_Hope - Guinevere_

I had travelled back with the main army, helping to soothe the wounds some of the men on the way. The worst injured remained at Camlann, their final hours to be smoothed as much as possible. The walking wounded and those well enough to travel by wagon returned together, a sorry sight pouring back through the gates of Camelot.

The servants who had remained behind welcomed us, and I appreciated the hot bath and change of clothes they had kept ready, but I could not bear to pass Arthur's rooms, and averted my eyes as I passed near the door. I knew that Camelot needed me to be strong, but right now all I wanted was to throw myself onto his bed and weep.

We sent out patrols in all directions, instructing them to search for Arthur and any others who had become separated from the main army. I could not understand how Arthur, who had been at the forefront of his men, could have become lost, but then I know much about the weapons and armour of war and little about how the wars themselves are fought.

It was partway through the next morning when we first heard news. I glanced out of the window, hearing hooves, and saw Gaius riding in. Gaius had been another mystery; the court physician, he had been by my side constantly in the tent where we tended the wounded, and then at one point towards dawn I had looked for him and he had not been there. No-one had seen him since.

Now he hurried up the steps into the castle, having handed the reins of his mare to one of the soldiers who stood guard, and I ran down the corridor to meet him, regardless of royal propriety. Gwain must have seen the arrival from another part of the castle, because we both met Gaius at the same time, as he arrived on the first landing.

"Gaius!" I gasped.

He solemnly bowed to me. "My lady."

"Tell me!"

"He is alive." The expression on his face did not reflect the joy I felt at his words.

"Why isn't he with you?" Gwain asked.

"He is wounded." Gaius hesitated a moment, then carefully removed something from a hidden pocket deep in his embroidered coat. "He wanted me to give you this," he said.

I looked at the object he handed me. It was the Royal Seal, an item whose size belied its importance; the Seal was proof of the right to reign over Camelot, and as I cradled it gently I realised that this meant Arthur did not expect to return, that instead he expected me to take over his role, as his appointed and approved successor.

"Where is he?" I was not yet prepared to abandon hope of his safe return, even if it seemed Arthur himself had given up.

Gaius looked grave. "There is a place where he may be saved. Merlin is taking him there as we speak."

I started making plans. "We must send the knights." I turned to Gwain. "Ready as many men as you can."

"No, my lady," Gaius interjected. "Merlin can cope by himself."

I thought of Arthur's servant, loyal and brave but no match for a Saxon army, surely. "Merlin?"

"You must trust him."

"How can one man be as strong as an army?" Even as I spoke, my mind threw up images of past adventures, where Merlin was always there, always ready to protect Arthur, and where somehow things always seemed to work in his favour. Merlin's luck was unbelievable. I had to admit that if Arthur's fate were to lie in the hands of one man, I could think of none I would trust more.

"Morgana's forces are still searching for him," Gaius pointed out. "Two men travelling alone stand a much better chance of evading her. Especially if she has no idea where they're heading." He looked pointedly at Gwain as he said this, and I tried to figure out the meaning behind his words.

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_Traitor – Gwain_

I'm too used to women falling for me to bother questioning it, I guess. I certainly never thought twice when Ayra sought my bed for comfort. It was hard accepting that she would seek harm to our King, but I agreed to carry out Guinevere's plan. After all, there was nothing to lose; either Ayra would prove to be a traitor, or no harm would be done.

And so I allowed her to see the concern I felt for Arthur, and fed her a false story to account for it. Then I watched her carefully to see what she would do.

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_Plans – Young Sarrum_

I am my father's second son. His first son was groomed as successor to the kingdom, but he was not up to that challenge, and so our father sent him into a battle he could not win. Then he named me as his chosen heir, and began to include me in his plans and teach me how to rule.

He always taught me that magic was to be reviled, and destroyed wherever we found it. Some of my first kills were of the druids who travelled through our kingdom. Word went out: fewer and fewer who could practise magic came our way, and our kingdom was the stronger for it.

I remember the satisfaction my father felt as he captured the High Priestess Morgana and her pet dragon, and I would sometimes creep to the edge of her pit to look down on them and gloat as they suffered.

I will never forgive her for the trick she played that made me instrumental in her escape, and I am grateful that my father was never aware of the true extent of my involvement. At least I had learned my lesson; never again would I tolerate any form of magic to live anywhere I that I could destroy it. It is like a weed: tolerate one small part to survive and before you know it your land is overrun and you have lost control.

I was aware of the battle between the Saxons, led by Morgana, and Camelot. My father had signed a treaty with Camelot, at the very moment he was assassinated, and so far I had honoured that treaty, but I was not prepared to go as far as fighting side by side with him; I would allow them to destroy each other and then I would step in and pick up the pieces, and so Camelot would become part of Amata as it should have been months ago.

When word reached me of the outcome of the battle of Camlann, I was beside myself with rage. It appeared that despite his declared hatred of sorcery, Arthur had won the battle with the aid of a great sorcerer who had appeared and struck down the Saxons.

I had already been assembling my army ready to strike. Now it appeared that we had another target that needed to be dealt with first. I sent my best men out with instructions to find the identity of this great sorcerer and to remove him from the field of battle – one way or another. I could not permit a man with that much power to survive.

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_**Not promising to update every day, but so far this story is trying to take me over! Reviews and comments always welcome.**_


	5. Chapter 5 Lies - Arthur

_**A/N: Some introspection for Arthur this time round. Still going steadily so far, but with hints of at least some of the trouble to come.**_

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**Lies – Arthur**

I was never sure why I allowed Merlin to take me in the opposite direction to home, why I found myself heading away from Guinevere towards some mysterious isle where there was apparently some remote chance my life could be saved. To be truthful, it was only Gaius's unwavering confidence in Merlin that stopped me from insisting we change direction and head back to Camelot. If these were truly the last hours and days of my life I did not want to be spending them on some sort of fruitless road trip. All I could do was cling onto the faint hope that had been presented to me, that there was some way to heal my injury.

That morning we travelled in silence. Merlin at first led both horses, but once he was convinced that I could stay on without too much assistance he mounted up as well, and we could increase the pace a little. Merlin led the way; the path was too narrow for the most part to ride side by side, and I was grateful for the excuse not to have to make conversation.

My wound was throbbing steadily, as though I could feel the fragment of metal easing its way towards my heart. I felt light-headed, and was grateful that all I had to do was sit more or less upright and hang on to the reins. Merlin, on the other hand, picked the way without hesitation, occasionally looking back to see that I was still with him. He seemed different somehow, more confident, more assured. For the moment, at least, he was definitely the one in charge.

Despite everything, I started to enjoy the journey and admire the world around me. The birds sang loudly in the trees, the sunlight was mostly filtered through the trees but on occasion found a gap in the leaves and managed a shaft of light to the floor of the forest. Once or twice I glimpsed a deer through the trees, and was reminded of more pleasant journeys with a more certain end. At one point I was tempted to ask Merlin exactly where we were going and how long it would take to get there, but then I thought better of it; the last thing I wanted right now was conversation with him. I was still trying to deal with the thought that he was a sorcerer.

After a couple of hours we had cleared the trees and were heading across the moors. Merlin had fallen back slightly, almost level with me, and looked as though he was trying to think of something to say. I avoided his gaze, preferring the silence. I had just reached the point of convincing myself that last night had been a dream, when Merlin held up his hand, looked back past me and then slid off his horse. Grabbing a blanket from behind his saddle, he reached up to drape it round my shoulders.

"Saxons!" he explained hurriedly. "I'll deal with them. Keep your head down. Don't speak."

I held my breath as Merlin waved down the two men on horseback who by now had reached us. "Help us! Please, you have to help us. We were ambushed."

He had that familiar note of half-panic in his voice, which would have made me smile had I not been so acutely aware of our peril. Two men, fully armed and trained in fighting, against an injured king and a servant?

The men seemed at least convinced enough to dismount without drawing weapons.

Merlin indicated the forest ahead of us, and I spotted a plume of smoke amongst the trees a short way away. That was a lucky break! Hopefully the men would believe that had been our camp. I held my breath, waiting to see if they would fall for it.

"By who?" the taller of the two men was abrupt, and did not look the type to be easily fooled.

"It was two men," Merlin hedged.

"What did they look like?" I could almost smell the man's suspicion. The second man was looking at me strangely, and I wondered if he could glimpse my armour under the blanket. Uneasy, I pulled it tighter round me and kept my head well down.

"Ah – one was a – a knight. They stormed our camp," Merlin was almost convincing, even to me. He was doing that little half-dance he did when he was anxious, and indicating the smoke plume.

The men turned to look where he was pointing, and he took advantage of the distraction to step towards me and adjust the blanket to better cover the hilt of my sword, which was surely too elaborate to belong to the sort of person who was likely to be roaming the countryside at this point in time, with such unrest in the area. Had they noticed?

"Are you sure it was a Camelot knight?"

"Yeah."

I released the breath I had been holding. Perhaps they had fallen for the deception.

Then the man pushed Merlin back and grabbed roughly at my blanket, yanking it away to reveal not only the sword but my armour. Both men drew their swords and I cursed and moved my hand towards the hilt of mine, wincing at the stiffness I felt. On any normal occasion I had no doubt I could take them both, but now I feared I would not even manage to draw my sword before they slaughtered both of us.

Merlin was too fast for any of us. He held his hands out in front of him, and the men seemed to fly backwards away from us, to lie on the grass unconscious – or dead. I had seen such power exhibited before, but usually it came from my enemies. How in the name of the gods had Merlin hidden such power from me?

"You've lied to me all this time," I said bitterly, starting to accept that at least a part of what he had said was true. The extent of his power I was still uncertain of, but that he was capable of more than tricks with flames was clear.

Merlin said nothing, but after checking the men over briefly he turned their horses away, slapped their rumps and sent them on their way, then mounted his own horse. He glanced at me once, as if to say something, then apparently thought better of it, as he gathered up his reins and nudged his horse back onto the trail.

We ate on the move, munching on hunks of bread that Merlin had fished out of his saddlebag. I found it hard to show any interest in food. I spent most of my time as we rode thinking back over my time with Merlin, trying to think of clues that I might have missed. I remembered bitterly at least two occasions when Merlin had either claimed he was a sorcerer – to protect Gwen, I had thought at the time – or been accused of sorcery, only to have me defend him, knowing that he was not bright enough to be a sorcerer. Besides, why would someone capable of magic be crazy enough to seek a job within the household of my father, who had declared war on the old ways, or be satisfied working as a servant to the King? He did not mean me any harm, that was clear enough; had that been his aim, he would have had many opportunities to hurt me in our time together. On the contrary, he had never taken any advantage of the many times in my life that I had been vulnerable in front of him.

I began to wonder about those times, and rethink Merlin's role in them. What had I missed?

**Searching – Jonek**

Following instructions from Lord Sarrum, I and my men set out in the direction of Camelot.

We split up a few miles from the city itself. Rodat, my most trusted officer, took a patrol in the direction of Camelot while I took my small party towards Camlann, where the great battle had taken place. On the way, we questioned those we came across. Very few of those we spoke to claimed to have been at the battle, but some confirmed the rumours we had heard of a great sorcerer who singlehandedly turned the tide of the battle in Camelot's favour. One man, obviously battle wounded, described the sorcerer as elderly and white-haired, looking and sounding fierce and carrying a mighty staff that spat lightning. I had never heard of such a sorcerer, but then very few who could wield magic dared venture anywhere near Amata these days, following Old Sarrum's reputation.

We extended our questioning to ask whether anyone had seen this sorcerer, but with no success, until we met a man who swore on his mother's grave that he had seen one fitting that description carrying a Camelot knight off the battlefield. He also insisted that Camelot's king was missing. I deemed this last scrap of information important enough to send a messenger back to my lord with. Should he choose to take advantage of Camelot's turmoil and strike sooner or later, was his decision; in the meantime, I would continue to track down the missing sorcerer and the missing king.

**Fire - Arthur**

As we camped that night, Merlin assembled firewood as usual, and then knelt to light it, but the wood must have been slightly damp, because he struggled for several minutes but was unable to raise more than a spark.

"Why don't you use magic?" I asked curiously, watching him growing more and more frustrated. It was the first time I had spoken anything other than a couple of words to him that day. There had been no further examples of his magic, although I must admit I would almost have been grateful for some when we had to ford the stream, which always ran fast this time of year. We had had to dismount and wade across, and for several moments I had been fearful that the water would wash me away, so weak had my legs felt.

He looked at me, and I almost laughed at the confused expression on his face. "Habit, I suppose," he answered, eventually.

He seemed to be seeking permission from me. I nodded, and within seconds the flames were licking at the twigs he had carefully assembled. "It feels strange," he said.

"Yeah." That was an understatement! Although the idea of Merlin having magic was beginning to intrigue me. Just what could he do? How powerful was he? Why was he behaving this way?

"I thought I knew you," I mused.

Merlin fetched his bedroll and laid it out near me, as he had done a hundred times before. "I'm still the same person," he said defensively.

"I trusted you."

"I'm sorry." He sounded truly regretful.

"So am I." I was tired, too tired right now to think about this any more for tonight, about how this changed things.

Merlin started to pull my boots off. "What are you doing?" I asked in shock. This was not the sort of behaviour I expected from the sorcerer I now knew him to be.

Merlin shrugged. "They need drying," he explained, laying the boots by the fire. This touch, so familiar from many other camps we had made over the years, was too much, and after staring at the boots and the fire for a couple of moments I felt my eyes closing, and I suppose I must have fallen asleep.

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_**Reviews/comments always welcome. Should Arthur's death be avoided, or postponed, or is it his destiny to die? How do we feel about Gwain, by the way? ;)**_


	6. Chapter 6 night-time

_**A/N: slight change of style for this - when I started in multiple first person, I was only intending to deal with Arthur and Merlin. Now that so many other voices have piled in, I'm switching to third person for some of them. Apologies if it jars at all; that's the problem with publishing as you write :)**_

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**Traitor - Camelot**

It was night-time in Camelot. While most in the castle and the nearby village slept, the few who remained awake were, in the main, around to keep everyone safe.

All except one, who was moving stealthily through the long castle corridors. Ayra looked cautiously around her as she crept along towards the stables where she had hidden the wicker basket containing the raven.

Carefully she lifted the raven out of its basket, attached a message to its leg and sent it off safely on its way. Satisfied, she turned to leave the stable and walked right into Gwaine.

"I – I was just..." she stammered, startled.

"Sending word to Morgana," the knight completed grimly for her.

"No!" Ayra tried to sound suitably shocked at the accusation. She gasped as Guinevere, the queen, also stepped into view. "My lady! I wouldn't do that! I wouldn't betray you or the king!"

"And you didn't," Guinevere answered with satisfaction. "You can go to your death safe in that knowledge. Your note will send your mistress riding for Brinifed and all the while the king will be travelling in the opposite direction. Guards!"

"Wait! Gwain!" Ayra wailed as she was grasped firmly by two guards and dragged off towards the dungeons.

**Food – Arthur**

I slept better than I might have expected, and woke up to the smell of cooking. Merlin had somehow managed to create some sort of hot meal, and was waving it under my nose, trying to feed it to me. I tried to push his hand away, but he persisted.

"This will be good for you. You need to eat." He looked as cheerful as usual, and for one wild moment I thought it had all been some sort of dream and this was a routine hunting trip, until I shifted position slightly and felt the stab of pain from my wound.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked weakly. I tried to wave my hand at the campsite, and the food he was offering, but managed little more than to lift my arm from the ground briefly. "Why are you still behaving like a servant?" With the power I knew he had, surely he could do far better for himself than running round after a dying king.

Merlin set the bowl and spoon down on a tuft of grass nearby and looked at me with that earnest expression of his. "It is my destiny," he said gravely. "As it has been since the day we met."

I thought back to our first meeting, and smiled at the memory. "I tried to take your head off with a mace." Merlin had stood up for the boy who was my servant at that point, when I and my men had been having some fun at his expense.

"And I stopped you." Merlin gave a sudden cheeky grin. "Using magic."

I thought of the inexplicable way boxes had jumped up to crack me in the shin, and I had managed to trip over a rope. "You cheated!"

"Yeah, you were going to kill me."

"I should have." I wondered for a moment how different my life would have been without him at my side.

"I'm glad you didn't," Merlin said seriously. "I do this because of who you are. Without you, Camelot is nothing."

I shook my head. "There was a time when that was true, but not now. There are many who could fill that crown." I thought regretfully of all the plans I had had. It was hard to accept that those plans were now at the mercy of someone else, even if it was my beloved Guinevere.

"There'll never be another like you, Arthur. And I also do this because you're my friend and I don't want to lose you."

Merlin picked up the spoon and bowl again, balanced the bowl precariously on his knee and put one hand under my head to support it, spooning stew into me. I obediently swallowed as much of it as I could. I had to admit, Merlin was a good cook. His breakfasts were often the high point of the trips we had to make on a regular basis. I wondered idly whether they involved any sort of magic. Now I had got over the first shock of discovering my servant could do magic, I was starting to come up with all sorts of questions. I just hoped that I would be strong enough to ask them all and obtain answers before the end.

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**Questions - Gwen **

Gwen had spent an uneasy night. The bed was too big for her alone, and every time she reached out absently for her husband she was shocked into wakefulness again as she remembered his absence. In the end she had given up trying to sleep, and had lain staring out at the stars and thinking back over the past few years.

Merlin was with Arthur, and Gaius felt he would be safe. Camelot had been rescued in battle by a mysterious sorcerer, whom Gaius seemed to know. Somehow her mind was playing with those two thoughts and coming up with a remarkable answer.

She thought about Merlin – she missed his cheerful countenance, the way he always seemed to come with some sort of answer to anything. Whatever the problem she had gone to him with, he always managed to help in some way. She had to admit that if Arthur had to be in the care of one man, there was no-one she would trust more, whether her strange idea was right or not.

Eventually she must have drifted off to sleep again, because she was aroused by her maid entering and greeting her. Quickly Gwen jumped up and dressed, brushing off assistance; after all, she had dressed herself for most of her life, and didn't need all the sort of pampering that Arthur seemed to delight in at times.

Refusing breakfast, she headed to the great hall and sent for Gaius. There was something she wished to ask.

"You called for me, my lady." Gaius entered, looking none the worse for a night or two camping in the woods.

"I wanted to thank you, Gaius."

"What for?"

"Unmasking Ayra. I shall forever be in your debt." She looked out of the window at the courtyard, where the gallows stood ready for the execution, and then back at Gaius. "And Merlin's. Was it he that found Arthur?"

"He's a good servant."

She observed wryly that this was not a direct answer. "He's always been there at Arthur's side."

"Indeed." Gaius was remarkably non-forthcoming.

She tried another approach. "The sorcerer in the battle – you knew who he was."

Gaius hesitated, seeming to weigh his answer carefully before answering her. "Yes."

"Do I know him? Please, Gaius, answer me honestly." She held her breath, trying to read the expression on Gaius's carefully neutral face.

"Yes. He'll take good care of Arthur."

She felt her head whirl. Had Gaius just confirmed her suspicions? "Yes, I'm sure he will. I'm pleased." There was so much more to say, but this was not the time. When this was over, she was sure that she, Arthur, Gaius and Merlin would have a very long, very interesting conversation. She dismissed Gaius, sent up a small prayer that this conversation would indeed come to pass, and then turned to deal with matters outside.

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**News - Morgana**

Morgana looked up from her thoughts as the raven fluttered into the semi-derelict temple she had made her base. Carefully she caught the bird and collected the message. As she read it, her mind began whirling. Could it really be that her wretched brother was finally within her grasp, that she could put an end to this and claim her throne back?

She turned to the Saxon men standing in the doorway. "Ready some men and the horses," she snapped. "We leave immediately."

"What is it?" Aiofe, the young Saxon she had been training, looked curious.

"You need to remain here," Morgana told her, not wanting to share her moment of glory. "When I return, we will ride for Camelot."

Aiofe nodded and reached down to stroke the head of the white dragon who lay at her feet. Morgana observed this with a rising fury; the way that dragon fawned over her was unbearable, and she vowed to herself that as soon as she got back she would deal with both of them. Aiofe's power was growing daily, and it was time she was put in her place.

But first there was Arthur to deal with.

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**Plans - Gwaine**

Gwaine stood looking out of a window down onto the courtyard. While he completely agreed with the sentence, somehow he could not bear to stand down there amongst the crowd to watch the execution.

Percival came and stood next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Gwaine suppressed a smile. Percival was a man of few words, but somehow he managed to say the ones that were important, even without speaking.

"You know what you'd said you'd do if you ever found Morgana?" Gwaine said, almost conversationally.

Percival looked at him, waiting.

"We've a good idea where she will be heading."

Gwaine didn't have to look at Percival's face to know he understood and was ready to act. The two of them headed down to the stables, and within a few moments they were both riding out in the direction of Brinifed.

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**Trying – Merlin**

I was loading up the horses when I realised that Arthur was sagging alarmingly from his position sitting on a fallen tree. I hurried over to him, sitting next to him and carefully mopping the sweat from his face. "Arthur! You have to hold on."

Arthur tried to lift his face towards me.

"One more day. One more day." I was almost chanting it.

Arthur seemed to have other things on his mind. "Why did you never tell me?" He seemed to have accepted my magic fairly calmly, if truth be told. He had been angry at first, but now seemed more curious. I wondered if that would have been his reaction earlier, or if we had to reach this point first, before he would be ready to accept it.

"I wanted to, but..."

"What?"

"You'd have chopped my head off." I flashed him a sudden smile. "Here." I carefully held up the water pouch so that he could drink.

Arthur swallowed a little, then pushed it away. "I'm not sure what I would have done," he said thoughtfully.

"And I didn't want to put you in that position."

Arthur turned to look straight at me, seeming to almost laugh. "That's what worried you?"

"Some men are born to plough fields, some to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing."

Arthur gazed at me, as though he could see my innermost thoughts. He looked about to say more, but as he did not speak I rose up. "Actually there is one thing I would change..."

I held out my hand towards Arthur's heart. "I have to try, Arthur, with your permission. Please?"

He nodded slowly, and I sent my mind out towards his injured side, reaching for that fragment of metal that was causing so much harm. I had tried the previous night, while he slept, but it seemed to disturb his sleep a little, and had thought it best to let him rest. Now, however, thinking afresh just how much I dreaded the outcome that seemed to wait for us, I wanted to try just once more.

This time, it seemed that I could feel the metal, but it was like trying to catch a fish in water: as soon as I tried to get some sort of grip it eluded me again, and from Arthur's expression I feared I was hurting him rather than aiding him. I gave up and stood, indicating the horses.

"Ready?"

He nodded, and I helped him once again onto his feet and then onto his horse.

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_**As usual, reviews/comments welcome - especially if they're the sort that makes me think about how I'm tackling this, what works and what doesn't :)**_


	7. Chapter 7 ambush

_**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites! Starting to get more into the original material now. Fun as it's been to put flesh on the BBC's bones, it's even more fun to develop the story in my own way.**_

_**BBC still own them, I'm only gaining entertainment and experience from this.**_

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**Ambush - Percival**

Gwaine and Percival were lying in wait by the time Morgana and her men appeared. It was a noble try, but while the Saxons were dispatched quickly and efficiently, even two knights of Camelot were no match for Morgana's magic. Percival managed to run her through with his sword, but even that had no effect; no ordinary weapon would be enough to kill a high priestess. His last recollection before things went black was a large oak tree flying in his direction.

**Saxons – Merlin**

I was leading the way again. Arthur seemed to accept my lead with very little fuss, and while I was grateful for the way it made things easier, I found myself longing to see a little more reaction from him. I was not sure whether his silence was caused by his acceptance of me, his fear of me or the effects of his injury. About the failed attempt to heal him, he had said nothing at all.

I spotted smoke ahead, amongst the trees, and held my hand up to halt him. "Saxons."

While Arthur reined his horse in, I sent my senses ahead, to find the smoke rising from the remains of a campfire I estimated to be several hours old. Probably from the previous evening, and not extinguished properly before they moved on.

"They're long gone," I announced with relief.

"How do you know?"

"I can see the path ahead." I smiled, delighting in the fact that I no longer had to hide my abilities and make some excuse.

"So you're not an idiot," Arthur observed drily. "That was another lie."

"No, it's just another part of my charm." I summoned up as much charm as I could in a grin, then distracted my horse from the clump of grass that she had begun to chew on and urged her forward again.

**Camelot – Gwen**

Gwen was in the long chamber checking on the injured yet again when Sir Leon found her. She was kneeling next to a young injured knight, who had nearly lost part of his arm to a sword swing. Gaius had been trialling a new poultice, which so far seemed to have achieved wonders.

"My lady?"

"Sir Leon." Gwen looked up briefly to acknowledge his presence, then finished retying the bandage. She stood up, stretching her cramped legs, then turned to Arthur's chief knight.

He looked grave. "My lady, word has just come from Amata. It appears that Young Sarrum is thinking of breaking the treaty."

Gwen indicated the men around her. Many of the knights were injured in some way, and very few were rested enough for another battle. "Do we have anything more specific?"

"His men insist that we either hand over the sorcerer or prepare for battle. They say that the treaty was on the understanding that sorcery was outlawed, and that using magic to win the battle at Camlann was breaking the terms."

Gwen stared, eyes wide. "But we can't... I mean, we owe the sorcerer our gratitude and protection, we couldn't possibly turn him over for execution, and we don't even know where he is..."

Sir Leon nodded. "I fear that they have heard rumours that the sorcerer is away with the king. They intend to press their advantage while both are absent."

"We need a council meeting. Immediately. Summon those of the council who are able to attend."

She had not yet reached the council room when Sir Leon was again at her side. "My lady, Gwaine and Percival are missing. It appears they rode out about an hour ago."

Gwen frowned. "Where could they be going at this..." She uttered a very unladylike word that made Sir Leon's eyebrows twitch. "They've headed out to ambush Morgana."

**Captured - Percival**

When Percival regained consciousness, he found himself strung up between two trees. It took him a few moments to regain his bearings, and then his blood chilled as he heard a man scream. Fearing Morgana's intentions, he summoned up the strength to snap the ropes as if they were made of cotton, and then rushed down the hill to Gwaine's aid. Gwaine was badly injured, but managed to gasp out that Morgana had learned of Arthur's true destination and had headed off after him.

Percival tried to comfort his friend, and cut him down using the sword he found discarded nearby. He carefully laid Gwaine out on the rough ground and tried to assess his injuries.

**Hiding – Arthur**

It had been half a day, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. In a way, I supposed it had: my lifetime. Apart from that campfire in the woods, there had been no sign of anyone else. It appeared even the bandits were lying low.

Merlin never ceased to amaze me. As we travelled, I was thinking back to our adventures over the years. I was startled out of my reverie as Merlin stopped abruptly, and I heard loud voices in the distance, accompanied by horses' hooves.

Merlin indicated a clump of trees. "In there!"

We moved our horses behind a bush and dismounted, and I looped the reins round a tree while Merlin peered through a gap in the bushes. I looked where he was looking, and spotted hoofmarks in the soft mud, but before I could react Merlin muttered something. As though a soft wind blew through them, leaves scattered over the marks and hid them completely, just as the group of Saxons rode into view. I held my breath, but as the men started to look around them the bushes moved on their far side, and they shouted, pointed and turned their horses away from us.

I let my breath out in relief. "You've done this before," I said to Merlin, who just looked at me as if to say, "You're finally working it out?"

I shook my head in admiration. "All these years, Merlin, you never once sought any credit." I remembered the times Merlin had told me he had saved his life, and I had laughed it off as ridiculous. I felt suddenly ashamed of myself.

"That's not why I do it." Merlin helped me back onto my horse, mounted his and we again set off.

**Rescue - Percival**

Percival stiffened and reached for his sword as he heard horses cantering towards them, but relaxed again as he recognised the armour and cloaks of Camelot.

Sir Leon swung himself down from his horse and knelt beside them both. "How is he?" he snapped, looking Gwaine all over for signs of injury.

Percival shrugged helplessly. "He needs Gaius. I'm not sure what Morgana did to him, but she managed to get him to give away Arthur's plans."

Leon scowled, but to Percival's relief he spared the lecture. "We need to get Gwaine back to Camelot, and we need to get message through to Arthur and Merlin. Sarrum's men are also out looking for them, and they are also hunting for the sorcerer who helped in battle. If they know where the sorcerer is, they need to warn him."

Percival stood. "I will head for Arthur. You take Gwaine back." Leon tried to send another knight with him, but Percival refused. "I can travel far faster by myself."

Eventually Leon agreed, and bulk of the group headed back for Camelot, while Percival mounted up again and turned his horse in the direction of Avalon, where he soon picked up Morgana's trail.

**Exhausted – Merlin**

It was getting dark, and I was anxious to keep moving, but Arthur was simply not well enough to keep moving. When I saw him lurch to one side and almost fall off, I rushed to his side. "There's not far to go! We need to reach the lake before dawn."

I don't know why I was so convinced that was all we needed to do; Gaius had said two days,and I had grown used to accepting Gaius's opinions, especially on medical matters. I had not really thought ahead, but I suppose I believed that we would reach Avalon, find the Sidhe and ask them to heal Arthur. While a small voice in my head warned me it could not possibly be that simple, I pushed it to one side and concentrated on each small step, the first of which was getting to Avalon before dawn.

"No, Merlin, no." Arthur was almost pleading with me, and I felt a surge of guilt. I had failed him, failed to prevent Mordred striking him, and now I was driving him mercilessly, causing further suffering.

"All right then," I conceded. "We rest for an hour."

In the end, it was longer than an hour. The night was chilly, and I gathered some wood and lit a fire. No hesitation now in using magic; those days when I needed to hide my skills were long gone.

Arthur moaned a little, and I propped his head up to feed him some water.

"Merlin," he whispered. "Whatever happens..."

"Shh. Don't talk."

He summoned up a spark from somewhere inside him. "I'm the King, Merlin. Don't tell me what to do."

I could not suppress a smile at that. "I always have, I'm not going to change now."

Arthur suddenly looked very serious. "I don't want you to change," he declared. "I want you to always be you. I'm sorry about how I treated you."

I could hardly believe my ears. Then an amusing thought crossed my mind. "So does that mean you're going to give me a day off?"

"Two!" Arthur was slurring his words by now, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"That's generous!" But by now Arthur was no longer with me, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. I tried to rouse him, then thought better of it.

I lowered him gently to the ground and made him as comfortable as I could "Get some sleep," I whispered, stroking his head. Whatever lay ahead, he would need all the strength he could find. And so would I.

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_**Reviews and comments always welcome, of course. Some interesting and thoughtful points being made, especially as to destiny and fulfilment and history and characters.**_


	8. Chapter 8 surrounded

_**A/N: Thanks for comments so far - I have received my first two negative reviews, interestingly both from "guest" and both saying similar things. I did make it clear that I was starting with the official episode story and then developing it/changing it, and with the transcript at 2000ish words and the story at 12,000 words, including completely original material, I can only assume that I've not just plagiarised.**_

_**I also find it ironic that the accusation comes at the very chapter that contains the most original material so far. From this point onwards, the story will be all mine, I promise; this is the last time there's anything that's in the episode. But remember I'm writing to develop my skills, and easing myself in from a long time away means that I did start using the original story as a kick-off. Just as many fanfiction stories are missing scenes or scenes from a different POV to the original.**_

_**Thanks to the BBC for the characters and the episode that was good enough and then unsatisfying enough to kickstart my writing again.**_

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**Surrounded – Gwen**

Queen Guinevere stood at Arthur's usual place at the Round Table, and watched the knights filing in to take their seats. Sir Leon had arrived back just a short time ago, and Gwen was anxious to hear what he had to say.

From the expression on his face, the news was not good.

Gwen felt cold fear clutch her heart, seeing his countenance. "Gwaine?" she ventured.

Sir Leon gave a small smile. "Gwaine is seriously ill, but he still lives," he reassured her. "Gaius is caring for him; he sends his apologies and says he is too busy to attend this meeting."

Gwen nodded her understanding.

"However, my lady…" Sir Leon hesitated, making Gwen want to scream at him in frustration. "I bear serious news of problems on our border."

"Young Sarrum."

"No, my lady. At least, yes, he is at our western border, but it appears the Saxons have managed to regroup. Stories tell of a Saxon magician, Morgana's apprentice, who leads the Saxons and controls the white dragon. They are marching on Colborn's kingdom as we speak, and he calls for aid."

Sir Redford spoke up. "We cannot afford to go to Colborn's aid if we are to fight off Young Sarrum."

Sir Leon nodded. "And yet if we do not go to his aid the Saxons will have more power, more land and will be even harder to beat."

Gwen held her hand up to stop the arguments that were starting to cross the table. "The only way we can fight off the Saxons permanently is for the kingdoms to all work together."

"Indeed, my lady. But the kingdoms are in turmoil following the battle of Camlann. Without news of Arthur, they fear the kingdom of Camelot is without a strong leader, and our enemies seek to take advantage. Even our allies falter, unsure whether alliance with Camelot is as useful as it once was."

"I will not assume the throne." Gwen had already had this argument with him. She refused to publicly announce herself as the new ruler of Camelot as long as she could feel Arthur was alive – or until someone brought proof to the contrary.

"I understand your feelings, my lady." Leon rubbed at his face tiredly. "However, in the absence of Arthur it is vital that Camelot is seen to have a leader."

"We can do nothing yet," Gwen countered. "Until the army has had time to recover, we lack power. In another day we will know more of who is able to fight. In another day we may have heard from Arthur – or Merlin, or Percival."

The rest nodded gravely, and the council dealt with the few routine matters they were able to deal with before breaking up and departing to their own areas of responsibility.

**Questions – Arthur**

I had been dreaming; I lay in my bed at the castle, with Guinevere by my side, I could feel the soft pillows beneath my head, and the warm body of my wife, who snuggled against me in her sleep. Outside in the main city the bell tolled for the early hours of the morning, and from somewhere distant I heard a cock crow.

Then I shifted position, and the stab of pain was enough to rouse me with a groan.

As soon as I opened my eyes, Merlin was there leaning over me solicitously, offering me water and gently wiping the sweat from my brow. I swallowed gratefully, then pushed his hand away and tried to sit up. To my surprise and gratitude, the pain did not feel as severe as it had been, although I still felt weak.

Merlin was anxious to be on our way, but grateful for relief from the pain, I was not eager to encourage it to develop again just yet. Besides, I had many questions that had surfaced during the long time I had spent thinking.

"Merlin?" I ventured. "The old man… the sorcerer. How…?"

Merlin looked up from where he had been dousing the fire. "Magic," he said.

"Yes, I get that, I'm not a total idiot, but why the disguise?"

Merlin sat down next to me. "Sometimes it was necessary to be seen performing magic," he explained. "By using an enchantment to make myself appear much older I could be free to do what was necessary without revealing my powers before the time was right."

I was struck by a sudden thought. "When the queen was enchanted … the old woman who performed the ceremony…"

Merlin blushed. "Was also me," he confirmed.

I laughed out loud, and then wondered at the lack of pain. "Who is Emrys?" I asked, recalling a name I had heard from Morgana.

Merlin looked surprised. "You've heard of Emrys?"

"I heard tell of a powerful sorcerer Morgana was seeking."

"Emrys is me. That is – I'm Emrys."

I must have looked as puzzled as I felt, because he went on, "The druids expected a great sorcerer by the name of Emrys. It was important that they did not associate Emrys with Merlin, hence the disguise."

Relieved that it was not just on my behalf that Merlin had kept his powers secret, I allowed him to help me up and onto the horse, and once again we set off.

**Dreams – Gwen**

Gwen had chosen to sleep in the King's bed. On the first night she had avoided his chambers, but tonight she had felt the need to be close to him in whatever way she could. She pulled on her nightdress, then on impulse took Arthur's nightshirt as well, and held it close. As she climbed in between the sheets, she revelled in the scent of Arthur that still clung to them, and slept better than she would have thought possible.

At one point she woke up with the strange feeling that Arthur was cuddled up next to her, to the extent that she could feel his breathing on her neck, but as daylight started to stream through the window she woke up fully and sat up, dreading the day that lay ahead.

**Riding – Percival, Morgana, Jonek**

Through the night, two horses were galloping. Morgana was looking for Arthur, determined to ensure that the blow Mordred had struck him was fatal, and that the way would be clear for her to claim the throne of Camelot that she considered her birthright.

Percival was following her trail, stopping every now and again to examine marks in the mud, or to listen carefully. He knew that she moved fast, and he was grateful that he was traveling by himself and so able to make reasonable time, but with every time he had to stop and check the way he hoped that the time he was making was enough, that he would not arrive too late.

Jonek and his men were travelling more slowly, but they too were moving towards Avalon, following a trail. As they traversed the countryside looking for signs of the king or his sorcerer, they had found two horses wandering loose. Nearby, they had found two men, dead by magic means, and tracks leading off. Those tracks had led them south, and while they had lost the trail at one point by continuing in the same direction they managed to pick it up again. Jonek moved steadily onwards, planning already the way he would break the welcome news to his master, that both King Arthur and his pet sorcerer were dead.

**Destiny – Merlin**

We were making better time, but when we broke free of the trees and saw the lake in the distance, I allowed Arthur to stop for another rest.

We were just about to start moving again when the horses ran off, startled, and as I began to chase after them a voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Hello, Emrys."

I felt the all-too familiar blast of magic throwing me back; I was grateful that my powers enabled me to soften my landing.

Morgana stood over Arthur, taunting him, revelling in his helplessness, so wrapped up in her success that she did not notice me behind her, protecting him. But then she never did; that was her weakness, to be so absorbed in her power and desires to fail to notice the power that others around her possess.

I did not exactly enjoy killing her, but I did feel a surge of satisfaction that it was ended, that the danger she had brought to Arthur and the kingdom was finally over.

Arthur looked exhausted. As I knelt beside him, he put his hand on my arm. "You've brought peace at last," he said, indicating Morgana.

I shook it off. "Come on. We have to make it to the lake."

Arthur shook his head. "We can't, Merlin, Not without the horses. It's too late."

"I WILL NOT ACCEPT THAT!" I yelled. Placing my hands on his chest, I summoned up all the magical power I could find inside myself.

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_**Ah curses, now I really need to make up my mind what happens, don't I? Question: We keep being told Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer ever, but have his powers ever really been defined? What do you think his abilities/strengths/weaknesses are? Comments etc... **_


	9. Chapter 9 Hope - Arthur

_**A/N Okay, here we go. He's not dead yet ;) They still don't belong to me, and I'm still only benefiting by way of writing experience and fun. Thanks BBC, and Colin and Bradley etc - we could always have a season 4 1/2, couldn't we? You know, those three (or was it five?) years of peace you just glossed over between seasons 4 and 5?**_

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**Hope – Arthur**

I shifted position slightly, pushing Merlin away from where he lay slumped across me. Startled, he sat up, apologising. "It's okay," I reassured him. "I think it helped a little." He looked a little dazed, as though the magic he had sent coursing through me had somehow drained some of his strength.

I could feel the pressure in my chest had eased slightly. It was still there, but I could breathe better and the pain was less. Merlin held his hand over my wound, frowning, then nodded. "Yes, I think at the very least it has bought us more time." He pulled me to my feet and helped me walk onwards, towards the lake that we could seen through the trees, by way of the full moon glinting off it.

"Time for what?" I sighed. "Merlin, how can we move further without the horses? You need to accept it, with all your magic you still can't save me." As we reached the edge of the woods I sank to my knees, unable to walk any further. My wound might be feeling easier, but my legs still had very little strength, and now Merlin appeared to be weakening too, whether from overuse of his magic or from sheer exhaustion I did not know. It made no difference; although the lake was no more than a couple of miles away from us now, it might as well have been on the moon, for all that it was unreachable.

Merlin helped me sit on the ground, then stood and paced away.

"We have to get to the isle in the middle of the lake," he insisted, staring out across the water. He looked deep in thought.

As though he had come to a decision, he turned back towards me again, and the moonlight showed a determined expression on his face. "Arthur," he said. "There is a way to get out there, but first there's something else you need to know."

I shrugged. I had coped with the revelation that my idiotic servant was really a powerful sorcerer who had been working to protect me and my kingdom for years. What else could there be?

Merlin came back and knelt beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Do you remember Balinor?" he asked.

I rubbed my chest a little, leaning back on a tree trunk, and thought back. "The last dragon lord?"

He nodded. "He was my father." His eyes were searching mine, looking for my reaction.

"Really? Well that explains why you were so upset over his death, I suppose." I thought back to the man we had searched for to save Camelot from the dragon that had been intent on destroying it. He had at first refused to come with us, and then had died on the way back when we had been ambushed by robbers. Thankfully, I had somehow managed to land a killing blow on the dragon even as it knocked me unconscious.

Merlin had been quiet for a few days after Balinor's death, but had said nothing about any personal connection to him. Understandable, I suppose, given my father's attitude towards anyone even remotely associated with magic.

"Merlin, this exchange of confidences is all very well, but how does that help us now?" Gazing out at the lake in the distance, I suddenly wished we had never come on this fool's errand; that instead I had insisted that he took me back to Camelot, where I could have seen my beloved Guinevere one more time and died in her arms. Instead, I was stuck out here struggling to cope with all the new things I was learning about someone I had thought I knew.

Merlin stood up again, with the same expression of defiance and fear on his face that he had worn that early morning when he had told me he was a sorcerer.

"You see, Arthur, Balinor wasn't the last dragonlord. The powers pass down from father to son."

I frowned, trying to work this out. "You mean..."

"I am a dragonlord." Merlin took a few steps away, faced the full moon through the trees and began shouting words in a language I didn't understand, but recognised as magic.

**Horses – Percival**

A mile or so away, Percival was cantering through the trees. There was a rough path, easy to follow, and he was grateful for the full moon that showed through the branches now and again, providing enough light to move reasonably quickly. He felt sure that now he could not be too far behind Morgana or too far from Lake Avalon itself. He reined his horse in to a walk, in order to be able to gain fair warning of company, and was soon grateful that he had, for not far away he heard a rustling noise. He was startled to see two horses trotting through the trees towards him, a few paces away, attracted by his own mount. He carefully dismounted and managed to catch the two runaways, which came to him willingly enough. He recognised the saddles as bearing Camelot markings, and both horses carried a small amount of food. Arthur's and Merlin's mounts? But why were they loose?

Fearful of what he might find ahead, he tied the two horses up, remounted his own horse and continued cautiously on the path the animals had come from.

**Dragon – Arthur**

I stared at Merlin, trying to figure out what he was hoping to achieve. Then in the distance, against the full moon, I saw what looked like a cloud, except that it was rapidly growing larger and larger. The shape looked vaguely familiar, but it was only as it grew nearer and nearer that I realised its true size and form and felt my blood run cold at the memory of previous encounters.

"Merlin! That's a dragon!" I screamed at him.

He turned to face me, his face triumphant. "Arthur, meet Kilgarrah."

**Camp – Percival**

Percival heard a horse whinny nearby, and then his horse shied and nearly unseated him. He jumped off, to find a woman lying on the ground. Closer inspection revealed it to be Morgana, whose face looked almost peaceful in death.

Tracks led on from the clearing through a gap in the trees, and once Percival had ascertained that Morgana was indeed completely dead, he cautiously followed, leading his horse. Only a few hundred yards further on, the treeline finished completely, leaving a clear view of the lake ahead. He knelt to examine a sword and dagger that he found lying on the ground just at the edge of the trees, when a noise from further down the slope towards the lake made him look up. To his astonishment and fear he saw that what he had first taken for a large bush had become a huge dragon taking off from the ground. As it circled round, heading for the island in the middle of the lake, he noticed two figures sitting just behind its head. The second figure was too dark to see, but in the moonlight he could see the first figure was wearing Camelot armour. "Well, well," he said to his horse, stroking its nose. "It looks like we've found our King."

** Friends – Merlin**

Kilgarrah landed almost gently in the courtyard in the middle of the ruins on the isle at the centre of Avalon, just as the sun was beginning to rise above the mountains on the far side of the lake, and I slid down onto the grass and then helped Arthur down as well. He stood looking a little shaky and more than a little thoughtful, holding onto a part-ruined wall for support.

"Thank you, my friend," I said, bowing my head to the dragon who had become my advisor and friend. "I am again in your debt."

"You are welcome, young Warlock," Kilgarrah replied. "I wish you best of luck on your quest to heal the King."

"Are you sure you can't..."

"I am sorry, Merlin. My powers, even added to yours, would not be enough to heal him completely."

"But can the Sidhe...?"

He moved his head to one side, looking at me intently. "I believe they _can_. The question is, _will_ they?" With that he was gone, flapping his wings rather hard as he took off.

I turned to look at Arthur, steeling myself for his reaction; he had been unbelievably quiet during the short flight. I flashed him my most innocent smile. "Shall we get moving, then?" I asked cheerfully.

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"A dragon lord."

"Yes."

"When were you going to tell me this?"

"I just did. Look, Arthur, it's been a big shock, I know. I just didn't want to land it all on you at once." In truth, I had been worried about how he might react. I had a feeling that his attitude to magic would become crucial in the events to come, and had been relieved that so far he had managed to adjust reasonably well. I just hoped this wasn't too much for him to handle. I had been deeply grateful that he had allowed me to hoist him up onto the dragon's back without protesting.

It seemed Arthur had been spending the journey deep in thought. "So I landed a killing blow on the dragon even as it knocked me unconscious, huh?"

I looked hurriedly away, concealing a smile. "Well maybe you just scared him off," I joked.

"Tell me, _Mer_lin," he pronounced my name in that drawn out way he had when he was exasperated with me, "Is there anything else you've forgotten to tell me?"

I shook my head. "No, I think that's about it - for now at least."

We were startled out of our conversation by a soft voice that greeted us both by name. As we turned, a beautiful dark-haired young lady stood close by. "Freya!" I cried joyfully, reaching out to embrace her.

Arthur scowled. "I recognise you," he accused her. "You are the druid girl who escaped and attacked my men."

He reached for his sword, but I had taken care to leave all the weapons behind on the mainland, apart from Excalibur which I had dropped from the dragon's back as we passed over the deepest part of the lake.

"Arthur," I said. "Meet Freya, the Lady of the Lake. Don't worry; she's no longer a threat to anyone. In fact, I'm hoping that she can advise us on how we can go about getting you healed."

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_**I really can't understand why Merlin didn't call on Kilgarrah before. I hope my explanation makes sense. Comments etc always welcome :)**_

_**Back to work on Monday so updates may slow down a bit, I'm afraid. **_


	10. Chapter 10 Proposition - Merlin

_**A/N: Apologies for the delay! The first week back at work was a doozy. Hopefully things will ease off a little and I'll be able to update more regularly again. They don't belong to me, etc etc - you know the drill.**_

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**Proposition – Merlin**

Arthur found a nearby stone and sank down onto it. "Okay, Merlin," he said. "I've decided this is just a stupid dream, and I'm just going to go along with it until I wake up."

I suppressed a smile, and turned to Freya again. "It's good to see you," I said, embracing her, "but we are here on an urgent matter."

"I know. The Sidhe are waiting to talk to you."

She turned and led us through the remnants of stone walls to an area that must once have been a garden. Arthur moved slowly and reluctantly, as though afraid of what he might find, and I took his arm to help him.

In the garden blue balls of light were flying round us like butterflies and Arthur moved his hand as though to swat them, but I caught it and held it still. "Those are the Sidhe," I informed him gently.

"Oh."

One of the blue lights coalesced into what looked like a tiny blue person with wings. Freya bowed to him. "Merlin, this is the Sidhe elder," she explained.

"You murdered our kind," the sidhe elder said, pointing at me and glaring.

"Uhoh, that's a good start," Arthur muttered under his breath.

I nudged him. "Arthur – I suggest you leave the talking to me."

To my surprise, he made no protest, merely again found somewhere to sit and then appeared to be content to watch proceedings.

"Sire, it is true that I have killed some members of your race, but they were trying to harm us at the time," I pointed out. "Sophia and Aulfric tried to murder Arthur, while Grunhilde and her Sidhe friend were trying to marry Arthur off to a Sidhe so she could be queen."

"They did what?" Arthur jumped up, then pressed a hand to his side and sank down again with a slight groan.

I glanced across at him. "It's alright, Arthur, I've got this covered."

The Sidhe did not seem very impressed with us, but I persevered. "We need your help. Arthur has not yet fulfilled his destiny. It is not yet time for him to die."

"By what right do you claim this?"

"The prophecy said that Arthur would bring peace to Albion, and a return of magic to the kingdom. Peace is not yet certain, and magic has not yet found its place. Albion still has need of its king."

The Sidhe seemed to ponder on this for a while, and my hopes rose. Then he looked straight at Arthur. "We will heal him – if he promises to make a Sidhe his heir."

I held my breath at their audacity, knowing what response they would get. I knew that they had sought to control the throne earlier, by way of marrying Arthur to a changeling, but had not anticipated that they would make access to that sort of power a condition of healing Arthur. That was my shortcoming; I had forgotten just how arrogant those of the older races could be, resenting those who were not of their kind.

Arthur was already shaking his head. "I value the people of my kingdom, and could not leave them in the power of one who I did not know and trust, in order to save my own life."

"Then we will not help you." The Sidhe faded into a blue sphere and flew up high.

"Wait!" I tried desperately to find the words to persuade him. "Is there anyone else who could help us?"

The Sidhe danced around Arthur's head, then back in front of me, and reappeared properly again. "You could ask the Desir."

The Desir were the human representation of the triple headed goddess. We had met them a few months earlier when they had passed judgement on Arthur. Arthur had refused to agree to the return of the old religion, and in return instead of ensuring Mordred's death as I had hoped they had healed him so that he would live to become Arthur's bane and strike the killing blow on him. I had denied magic in front of Arthur that time, passed up on an opportunity to encourage him towards accepting magic within the kingdom, and all for nothing.

"Why would the Desir want to help?"

"I did not say they would want to help. It is possible that they could help, but whether they will or not I cannot say." He looked annoyingly smug.

"But..." I looked to where Arthur had sunk down onto a piece of fallen masonry, and was sitting with a hand pressed to his side as though in pain. "Arthur grows weaker. He will not survive the journey to Brinefed." The holy shrine was a day's hard ride away at least, and we had lost the horses when Morgana had attacked us.

The Sidhe flew around Arthur, circling him in a spiral from head to toe, as though assessing him. "He will survive long enough to meet the Desir again," he predicted solemnly, then laughed at something I could not see and flew up again. He faded into nothing, and we were left alone.

**Waiting – Jonek**

Jonek and his men had been following the trail all day, and had hoped to catch up with the men they had been following, when they had seen a dragon lift off from the land, carrying two men to the isle. Unable to find a boat, they settled down on the shore, prepared to wait. There appeared to be nowhere else along the water's edge where a boat might land, and Jonek could be patient when needed.

As they waited, he passed the time imagining the rewards that would come to him when he presented the king and his sorcerer to his master, Young Sarrum. He, too, had a hatred of sorcery, and was unable to decide whether he would rather return the sorcerer alive or whether it would be better to kill him and return the body; the reward might be less but it was likely to be safer.

**Shore – Arthur**

"Well that was a waste of time," Merlin scowled as the blue pixie thing disappeared. I sympathised with him. The Sidhe did not seem particularly amenable as a race, and certainly did not seem to appreciate our presence.

Freya laid a soothing hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Merlin," she said. "I know that's not the answer you hoped."

Thinking of the Sidhe's parting words, I stood and stretched a little, tentatively feeling how my injury reacted. A small twinge, but definitely easing off. I wondered at the simple pleasure of being able to move more easily; the sort of good health that until recently I had taken for granted, but which over the past couple of days had seemed impossible.

Merlin seemed furious on my behalf. Freya held him and talked to him quietly, and I kept back to give them some privacy. I had learnt a lot about my servant in the past few days, but one of the biggest surprises had to be that he seemed to be on such good terms with such a holy woman.

The morning had passed unnoticed during our discussion with the Sidhe, and now the sun stood high in the sky. Freya took us to another part of the grounds, where a small meal stood ready for us, and we sat and ate together. I found my appetite was starting to return, and I ate willingly enough, noticing as I did so that Merlin only nibbled at a hunk of bread.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Nothing to worry about. Magic can drain the strength, that's all, and I think it's all beginning to catch up with me."

"Can we rest here until tomorrow?" I thought longingly of Camelot, and of my wife, fully intending to travel to Brinefed via my home, but knew that with no horses the journey ahead would be a hard one.

Freya stood up. "I am sorry, Arthur, but it is forbidden for mortals to remain on the isle after dark. You need to start your return journey now."

I indicated my empty sword belt helplessly. "We don't even have weapons."

"We appreciated you leaving them behind," Freya nodded. "Weapons are also forbidden on the holy isle. And Arthur – your sword will be returned to you when you are ready to wield it again. Merlin was wise not to leave it behind where it could fall into the hands of those who would use it ill."

I thought mournfully of the beautiful sword that Merlin had thrown into the lake. I felt naked without it, and if Merlin was not at full strength who would protect us both?

Reluctantly, we walked down to the water's edge with Freya, and climbed carefully into an old boat that lay next to the pier. No dragon flight back then. I looked for oars, but Freya noticed and smiled at me.

"Merlin will return you to shore," she assured me, and Merlin nodded to her, kissed her hand mournfully and then chanted a spell. The boat began to move slowly through the water, as though led by an invisible hand, while Merlin laid back in the bow of the boat with his eyes closed and I sat upright and still so as not to aggravate my wound, which had set up a dull ache.

The lake had seemed vast, but before very long we were drifting into shore in the direction we had come from. Merlin opened his eyes as he felt us bump gently against the pier he stepped carefully out of the boat and held it still for me to do the same. Merlin looked around us for a moment as though to catch his bearings, and then pointed up the hill towards a large oak tree on the edge of the forest.

"That way."

As we started up the hill, picking our way carefully amongst the gorse bushes, he stumbled and I put my hand out to support him, and then stumbled in my turn. I expected Merlin to laugh, but as I caught a better look at his face I saw blood on it, and as I turned behind to see what had happened four men rose out of a nearby bush, swords held at the ready.

They seemed determined to capture us, rather than kill us, and with no weapons and being at less than full strength we had little choice, and so before long we were lying on the ground, hands bound, listening to the men debating how they were going to return us to their master. I heard the words king and sorcerer; they seemed fairly confident they had one, but thankfully they did not appear to associate the young servant they had captured with the powerful sorcerer they seemed to seek. Merlin was lying with his eyes closed, but as far as I could see he was still breathing. My one hope was that when he woke he would be able to aid us.

One of the men shouted something I did not hear properly and ran off. I gathered from further shouts that their horses had become loose and one had wandered off. He ran after it, but we lost sight of him as he disappeared into the trees, and he did not return.

After a few moments a second man swore loudly and walked off after him, and he also failed to return.

Just as I was beginning to feel more than curious as to their whereabouts, a bush near the treeline seemed to explode into a figure clad in chainmail, and before I could even see what was happening the remaining two men lay dead on the ground.

The newcomer turned and bowed to us, and then bent and used his sword to release the ropes around our arms. "My Lord. Need any help?"

"Percival!" Never had I been quite so pleased to see Camelot's gentle giant.

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**Reviews/comments etc always welcome - thanks to those who have commented so far, some of whom have influenced the story a little. Any ideas as to what should/shouldn't happen in future chapters?**


	11. Chapter 11 Secrecy - Merlin

_**A/N: I'm adopting what I call Merlin's elastic topography here - the philosophy that two places are always just as far apart as they need to be. It frustrates me that geography doesn't seem set, that a journey will be just the right length for the story it's telling ;)**_

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**Secrecy – Merlin**

My head throbbed. It took a while before I could get beyond that. Then gradually I became aware that I was lying on a blanket on the ground next to a warming camp fire. A hunting trip. Or perhaps we were on our way back from a tour of the villages; Arthur liked to visit various places from time to time, to talk to people and find out what was happening to the part of his kingdom that lived outside the city walls.

Arthur.

There was something important. I struggled to remember, but the thoughts would not come, so instead I lay still and listened.

"We need to get back to Camelot."

"What happened to the sorcerer who saved the battle?"

"I'm sure he'll turn up when we need him again."

The meaning of the words gradually filtered through, and I felt a knot in my stomach. I thought Arthur had come to terms with my magic. So why was he keeping it a secret? I knew the voice he was talking to. Percival? What was he doing here?

I must have groaned, because Arthur was next to me, his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "Take it easy, Merlin, you had a bang on the head."

I opened my eyes to discover the sun low in the sky, evening already nearly upon us. Arthur was sitting next to me, while Percival was a short way away putting more wood on the fire. He looked over and grinned.

"It's good to see you awake, Merlin," he greeted me.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to prop myself up on my elbow.

"We were ambushed. They were trying to capture the king and the sorcerer who won the battle at Camlann. Unfortunately for them they only found the king and his servant," Arthur said grimly. "And then Percival turned up at just the right moment to help out." He turned to Percival. "We could do with more wood. Don't want the fire getting too low."

There seemed a fair pile of wood already, but Percival nodded anyway and moved away into the trees a little further, out of earshot.

Arthur glanced over in the direction Percival had gone, and then bent closer to me. "I felt it better to keep your secret for now," he said urgently.

"But surely we can trust Percival!"

Arthur shrugged. "I believe so too, but still it seems easier to leave all unaware until we know what the full situation is with the kingdom."

I lay back, bitterly disappointed. Over the past couple of days I had begun to relax in a way I had never thought possible. Arthur had become used to my magic and I had even begun to show off a little, relieved that finally I no longer had to hide who I really was.

And now it seemed we were back almost where we used to be, with me having to consider carefully everything that I did, in case I gave away my true abilities.

Percival returned and laid his load of wood down next to the fire, then lifted something up and held it over to me. "Bread?"

I took it gratefully and nibbled on it. It was hard but edible, and more than welcome; I had managed little food at lunch. I looked up at Arthur, the words he had said earlier finally sinking into my sore head.

"Back to Camelot?"

He nodded. "I need to show that I'm still alive, and see that everything is under control."

"But Sire, we need to go to Brinefed!"

Arthur shrugged. "The Sidhe said I would survive to reach Brinefed. A route via Camelot will delay us but a little, and I cannot go on without seeing Guinevere again."

I conceded that it would be beyond cruel to deny him a chance to see Guinevere again, and to be honest I was also eager to return to the city I had grown to love, but I was anxious that we not delay too long; better a short stay now and then the return of a fully healed Arthur than risk staying too long and him not being well enough for the journey.

I did not want to think about how likely the Disir were to heal him; to consider that would be to risk losing the small hope I still held of Arthur being fully healed and able to rule his kingdom.

"You both need to get some sleep," Percival said, breaking into my thoughts. "I will keep watch."

I would have insisted on taking my turn, but my eyes were closing already, and I gave in and slid into a deep sleep.

**Musings – Arthur**

I lay awake long into the night, staring into the part of the sky that showed between the trees, marvelling at the stars that shone there. My father used to say that they were our ancestors, watching us. I wondered idly if he was up there too now, and what it would be like to one day observe the world from their lofty position. In a way it was comforting, but then I felt the frustration in my heart at not knowing what was going on back at Camelot, and mused whether it would be better to know and not be able to affect it, or to not know.

Ah well, tomorrow we would reach the castle, by nightfall at the latest, and then I would hear how the kingdom had been progressing in my absence. I knew from stories told around banquets what could happen to a kingdom whose king was missing after a battle, and I was anxious that mine should not suffer the same fate. The crows were far too eager to swoop on a battlefield and take their pickings, and did not always wait. My greatest fear was that we would return to find Camelot under siege, as one of my nearby allies decided that they could no longer rely on Camelot to support them and would be better off annexing it.

Eventually I suppose I must have slept, because I woke to hear Merlin clattering around, producing one of his wonderful stews. I wondered for a moment where he had managed to obtain meat, then decided it would probably be better not to know.

It had been hard coming to terms with the new Merlin; in many ways he was still exactly the same person he had always been, but in another way it was as though someone had opened a window, and what I had previously seen in distorted fashion I could now see clearly. I had begun to recognise the clever way he gave advice without seeming to, and to understand how and why I had begun to rely on him in so many ways. His magic both repelled and fascinated me. I had no fears that Merlin meant me any harm; indeed if that had been the case he could have been successful many times over. Instead, I had been thinking over events over the past few years, wondering what part magic had played in them.

At first I had been angry with him, seeing only the deception, but then I began to appreciate the fine line he had been walking, helping me while all the time fearful that if I should ever find out his secret then his life would be forfeit.

I would like to think that I would have treated him in fair fashion, but upon hard consideration I felt that perhaps it was just as well that I had not known before this what role he played.

"Time to eat, Sire," Merlin said cheerfully, and I gave up trying to sleep and sat up carefully.

"How is your injury?"

"It really does seem to be easing a little," I admitted, almost afraid to put into words what I had been feeling.

"I'm glad." He handed me a bowl of steaming stew.

Percival reappeared at this point, and we all three sat and ate. If it were not for the pain in my side, or the raised lump on Merlin's temple, it could have been any other camp on any other occasion.

The morning was a little overcast, and Merlin kept glancing anxiously at the sky as he packed the horses with Percival's help. I sat and rested, as instructed, but was grateful when finally I was helped onto my horse and it was time to set out for home.

**Homecoming – Guinevere**

It was early evening, and Guinevere had been once again tending the wounded, when the message first reached her. She was tying off a bandage around an injured hand when Gwaine burst into the hall. "My Lady!" He was almost out of breath.

"Gwaine, you're supposed to be resting," she scolded him, all the while knowing that it was nigh on impossible to make the excitable knight take it easy.

"Never mind that! A patrol just got in!" He could speak no more, and Gwen helped him to a chair. He was still weak from his encounter with Morgana, and while Gaius was generally happy with his recovery, he had still warned that Gwaine should avoid exertion.

Might as well order him to abstain from breathing.

Gwen's heart was beating fast, but she dared not consider his words too carefully. Instead, leaving a protesting Gwaine under the care of one of the young maids that Gaius had pressed into assistance, she headed up the stairs, where she met Sir Leon hurrying down in search of her.

"The patrol sent to the west has just sent a man back," he reported. "They have sighted three riders on their way in from that direction. The rest of the patrol is riding out to provide escort."

Still Gwen refused to allow herself any glimmer of hope. She hurried to the landing that offered the best view of the lands to the west, and fixed her eyes on the path that led from the woods to the castle, but it was some time before she saw anything. In that time she was joined by Gaius, and Leon disappeared from her side, shortly afterwards to be seen heading towards the stables and then riding out from the main gate. She followed his progress as he and others headed out to the west.

Then a horseman rode from the woods, a Camelot knight. He was followed by another, and another – the patrol? No, not just the patrol! There looked too many for a standard patrol – and one of the knights was unmistakably Percival, with his bare arms! Another of the riders wore no armour, but a brown jacket, and he rode closely behind another of the knights, who was riding rather more slumped than was usual for a knight of Camelot. It looked almost as though he was trying to protect him. Could it be? Then the slumped rider lifted his head to gaze at the castle on the hill, and Gwen gasped. Even this far away there was no mistaking him as he straightened himself up to sit upright, seeming to stare directly at her across the distance.

Other knights were riding out from the castle, anxious to provide escort, and by the time the patrol and their party were riding through the gates of Camelot there were over a hundred knights riding with them, eager to show support for their returning King.

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_**Reviews/comments always welcome of course. Glad people seem to be enjoying it so far :)**_


	12. Chapter 12 - return

_**A/N: sorry it's been a while again. Doing my best! My season 5 boxset has arrived, so I'm enjoying myself listening to the commentaries and checking up on facts. Trying to write, too, honestly! If only work wasn't quite so busy... anyway, enjoy, and they still don't belong to me, etc**_

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**Council – Arthur**

The first thing I did when we finally reached Camelot was hold Guinevere very close for a very long time. There had been times over the past few days when I had feared I would never see her again, never smell her sweet perfume and feel her hands gently stroking my face, and from the strength of her embrace she had missed me too.

The second thing I did was call a council meeting.

As we filed into the council chambers to sit round the table, it was already obvious that not all had returned from Camlann. Leon informed me that two remained in the care of the medics, while another three had lost their lives in the battle. As we moved to our usual chairs, Merlin went to his customary spot in front of the pillar. I spoke quietly to Gwaine, who seemed as bouncy as ever despite his ill-treatment at Morgana's hands, and he moved along, making room for Merlin between him and Gaius. Merlin shook his head as I indicated the seat to him, but Gaius had a word with him and he eventually came and sat, looking extremely uncomfortable. I saw one or two eyebrows raised round the table, but no-one dared say anything, and so we settled to business.

Guinevere sat to my left, of course, with Sir Leon on her far side, and then Percival. To my right sat Gaius, then Merlin, then Gwaine. Of the other sixteen, only eleven remained.

Reports were given of activities in various bordering kingdoms: it appeared that most were peaceful, but Odin's land to the north and Areth's kingdom to the north west both reported Saxons on their borders and Annis was too busy protecting her borders to offer help.

The most immediate concern, however, was with the delegation from Young Sarrum, who was threatening an attack on Camelot itself. They were claiming that Camelot had broken the treaty by harbouring a sorcerer, and were demanding he be handed over for execution.

Leon suggested that they were frightened at the perceived threat: if Camelot had that sort of power, what was to stop them taking all the other lands? He had heard rumours that men had been sent to spy out the land, searching for the sorcerer in order to kill him before he could lead an army to battle.

That tied up with our experience. I told the table a little of our journey to the blessed isle, and how we had been attacked by a group of men who had been looking for me and for the sorcerer.

"Sire... who is this sorcerer?" Leon asked curiously.

"He is a great friend of Camelot," I answered. "He will not attack these lands. He seeks peace across all the kingdoms, just as we do."

"With all due respect, I do not believe Young Sarrum will just accept your word on the matter," he said.

"Where is this magician, anyway?" asked Gwaine.

"He keeps his own company, but I have his word that he is watching and will know if his presence is necessary, just as he did at Camlann." I did not dare look in Merlin's direction as I spoke. I knew that he had not liked my decision to keep his magic secret, but with assassins roaming the countryside seeking to kill him, it was the best way to keep him safe. I had said little of his role in our journey save to say that he had been told by the sorcerer that it was possible a cure would be found on the blessed isle in the lake.

We agreed that the first step towards a solution was to invite Sarrum himself, and the other leaders. Fighting between the kingdoms would only leave the way free for the Saxons to take over the lands one by one, and what was needed was to find a way to work together.

Messengers were sent out with invitations, and council adjourned for the night. I had managed to ward off all enquiries as to my health, but now it was time to face the truth, at least in private.

**Home – Merlin**

Once we arrived back at Camelot it seemed in some ways as though nothing had changed. Arthur called a council meeting, and I took up my usual place, but Arthur insisted I sat next to Gaius at the table, using the excuse that he hated seeing the gaps and that I looked as though I was about to fall down. As I sat, I wondered how he would proceed. Would we indeed see him usher in an age of magic? How would he explain a change of heart and law?

Still, as we heard of the mercenaries out searching for the sorcerer, I gradually acknowledged to myself that perhaps it was wise to keep my magic a secret for a while longer. It was hard enough trying to protect Arthur on occasion; having to do so while fearing for my own safety as well was not an experience to be sought out.

When at last the meeting was adjourned, Gaius and I both accompanied Arthur and Guinevere to his quarters. There Arthur seemed drained of his strength and sank down into a chair, pressing a hand against his side. Gwen knelt next to him, soothing him. We gave them a moment's privacy, then Gaius and I stepped forward to help him finally out of his armour and lay him gently on the bed, where at last we got a clear view of his injury.

The wound was little enough to look at on a first glance: a black line on a red swollen area, which seemed already to be healing. When we looked closer, however, we could see the swelling was looking painful and angry, and the slightest pressure caused pain.

As Arthur lay there, he grabbed my hand. "Merlin, will you try healing me again, as you did in the woods?"

Startled, I looked over at Gwen, but she only smiled.

"Don't worry, Merlin," Arthur said. "Guinevere already knows. She worked it out. She's far cleverer than I am."

"I had begun to wonder long ago," she admitted. "I always knew there was something about you, Merlin."

Reassured, I placed my hands over Arthur's wound. It was easier now that I could see it properly. I closed my eyes for a moment and then began to chant a spell. The magic flowed out of me – I could feel it pouring from my hands, but as before it seemed to hit the sliver of metal in Arthur's chest and then instead of flowing round as I had commanded it and helping to ease the metal out, it felt as though the power had hit a stone wall, and rebounded back to leave my hands seared with pain. I staggered back and Arthur seemed to convulse, but as Gwen moved to Arthur and Gaius caught me the power drained away, leaving us both exhausted but unharmed.

"Thank you," Arthur murmured. "And now, Merlin, it's time for us both to sleep."

"I can't," I answered at once. "There is too much to do, if we are to be ready to leave at first light."

"Leave?"

I felt the dread that had haunted me during the meeting strengthen as I realised that my suspicion was true. I had been intending to leave for Brinefed first thing in the morning, but it seemed Arthur had other ideas.

"Arthur, we must get you to the Disir."

"Yes, yes, but not yet. There is too much to do here."

"Which you could manage far better if fully healed!"

"Merlin, I cannot leave Guinevere again without ensuring she is prepared to meet with the kings. That meeting is vital for the future of not only Camelot but all of Albion. It must be handled right."

"And if we leave for Brinefed early we can be returned in time for you to lead it yourself."

Arthur shook his head sadly. "Merlin, you know my injury is too severe, and there is no reason for the Disir to heal me. Not unless I agree to terms that are unthinkable. Now, both of us need to sleep."

I would have stayed to argue, but both Gaius and Gwen encouraged me gently out of the door, and by now I was too exhausted to protest further, and allowed myself to be led away to the comfort of my own room and bed.

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_**So - when they do finally go, any preferences as to which of the Knights provides escort? Comments/ suggestions/ reviews always welcome :)**_


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